


Sally and Jack

by VivaVia (QueenFisher)



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenFisher/pseuds/VivaVia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>October 31st. Mary convinces Molly to dress up for a Halloween party. Pre-Sherlolly</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sally and Jack

**Author's Note:**

> So I was watching the Nightmare Before Christmas and this happened. Just wrote and posted, so beware of mistakes. Also I know similar stories/drawings/manips have been made, so just know that I didn't intentionally copy anyone else. 
> 
> I don't own the characters, or the characters that the characters are dressing as.

“Miss Molly Jane Hooper,” a voice said behind her. Molly sighed. Her friend only used that voice when she wanted Molly to do something with her, usually some late night out type of thing.

“Yes Mary?” she sighed, not looking up from her paperwork. Not only was Mary using the voice, she was also talking to Molly during what was probably her lunch break. Whatever she wanted must have been more exciting then usual.

“Do you having anything planned for, say, this Saturday?” Mary asked in a singsong tone.

“Isn’t this Saturday the 31st?” Molly responded, putting down the pen she was using. Her friend seemed to want her full attention.

“Yes it is. I was wondering if you would be open to me setting you up. Say, almost like a blind date,” Mary told her. Molly let out a small laugh.

“You’re kidding,” she said. “You know how many times I’ve turned you down on that, what makes you think Halloween is a better date then the rest?”

“Because you’re going to the hospital party anyway.” Molly groaned and started to protest but Mary cut her off and kept talking.

“No, I haven’t forgotten. You promised to go.”

“I lost a bet!” said Molly. “It was weeks ago, you’re actually going to follow through with it?”

“I most certainly am. And there will be someone there that I think you’ll like,” Mary insisted.

“Who?” Molly asked. She knew when she was defeated.

“If I told you his name it wouldn’t be a blind date,” sang Mary

“If you don’t tell me his name it won’t be any kind of date,” Molly retorted.

“I’ll tell you this much. I met him through John, and he actually knows who you but won’t admit to himself that he like you.”

“Have I met him?” asked Molly puzzled.

“If I tell you that you’ll know who he is.”

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?”

“That’s a maybe. Anyway both John and I think you’d be perfect for each other but you’re to shy and he’s an idiot so neither of you will do anything about it. He’s going to be at that party and so are you, and you’re going to talk to each other,” Mary said.

“How am I going to know who he is? Are you just going to walk up and introduce us, because you’ve tried that already,” said Molly.

“No, it’s better then that. You’re going to have matching costumes. If you find the man in the costume that matches yours, you have to talk to him. If you don’t, then no more blind dates. I swear,” Mary promised.

“And I have to let you chose my costume,” sighed Molly.

“It’ll be within reason. Nothing inane.”

“And if I don’t find this mystery man you won’t do anything about it?”

“Correct.”

“Alright fine,” Molly said, finally giving in. Mary smiled, said goodbye, and left the lab. Molly saw her dialing a number on her phone as she walked down the hallway and hoped she hadn’t made a mistake.

 

Molly tugged on the edge of her skirt as she was walking towards the room, hoping that the flowing fabric wasn’t going to ride up. Her hair was straight and fell around her face, concealing parts of it. Honestly she didn’t know who she was dressed up as, but if the penciled in stiches around her arms, face, and next were any indication she assumed she was some sort of female Frankenstein. Mary had wanted to paint her skin blue, but Molly had refused, and Mary settled for blue eye shadow and tinted blush from some Halloween store. She hadn’t asked Mary what the costume was, and was hoping that because she hadn’t seen the movie the character was from she could pretend she hadn’t found her person she was supposed to be meeting.

The St. Bart’s Halloween party was always crowded. Molly rarely went, but she could tell that it was a larger group then usual because of how small the large room felt. Mary found her almost moments after she got there.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she giggled, grabbing onto her arm.

“Are you drunk? It’s not even nine,” said Molly. Mary laughed.

“Not yet. Getting there. Have you found you matching partner yet?” she asked.

“I just got here,” Molly responded. “Where’s John?”

“He went to get drinks. He and I are Alice and the Hatter,” Mary giggled again as she spun in a circle. Molly rolled her eyes. At least when she was intoxicated Mary would be less likely to notice that Molly wasn’t trying to find her partner. Maybe she could even sneak out early. John appeared behind his fiancée, holding two red cups.

“There you go. Hello Molly,” he said, handing one to Mary and taking a drink from his cup.

“I don’t really think she needs much more,” Molly responded. John chuckled.

“I’ll look out for her. Despite my family history I’ve got quite a tolerance,” he said.

“Nice hat by the way,” Molly smiled. John rolled his eyes.

“Guess whose idea it was. I thought I saw your Jack over there, by the way,” he pointed across the room.

“Oh. Alright then,” said Molly. She said goodbye to them and made her way through the room. As soon as John turned his back, she slipped around the mass of people dancing and to a corner, grabbed an unopened bottle from a table and popped it open. Molly didn’t usually drink beer, but she knew if she didn’t look like she was having some fun Mary would be on her. Taking a sip, she scanned the room for someone she could have a real conversation with.

“Ah Molly. Of course. This is ridiculous,” said a deep voice. Molly jumped a bit and turned around. Sherlock was standing behind her in a black pinstripe suit with odd-looking shoulders and a white blouse. His was slicked back and his face was powdery white.

“Did John drag you here?” she asked him. He was grimacing and scanning the crowd.

“Yes. I assume you’re my Sally,” he said.

“What’s that mean?” Molly asked, taking another drink from her bottle.

“Mary made you come because of a bet at the beginning of the month. She also had an idea that she was going to set you up on a blind date with someone by dressing you in a costume to match his. She told you who you were going to be and who to be looking for, but instead of informing her that you didn’t know who the people where and you hadn’t seen the movie they where from, you played along hoping that you could just tell her the next day that you hadn’t found your partner. What you didn’t know was that your best friend was plotting behind you back with her fiancée to set you up with the last person you want to be dating right now,” Sherlock said rapidly, like he did when he was deducing bodies.

“And that would be…” Molly started, hoping she was wrong.

“Me. I’m Jack. It was John’s idea of course, though I didn’t let him dye my hair. I knew he was working with Mary and she was dressing someone up too. I’m not sure how I didn’t figure out it was you, John’s been bothering me for weeks.”

“About me?” Molly frowned.

“Yes,” Sherlock sighed. “He and Mary have this shared delusion that I’m deeply fond of you, I believe he’s even used the words ‘in love’, but I’m too thick to see it. Also they believe that in the event we began a relationship nothing devastatingly horrible would happen. You realize that though, otherwise you would have done something about your little crush long ago. You were in love with me at one point but in reality I’m the last person on anyone’s list.”

Molly’s cheeks burned as she took another sip of her drink, hoping to god Sherlock couldn’t see the color of her face in the dark lighting.

“I did try to do something about it. I asked you out several times,” she responded finally. She wasn’t sure where she got the courage to speak up, but once it was there she couldn’t stop herself.

“You asked me if I wanted to have coffee several times,” replied Sherlock. He appeared genuinely puzzled. Molly continued, even though her face felt like it was on fire.

“Yes. I asked if you wanted to go out for coffee. Like a date, the two of us getting coffee. Do you even know what that is?” she said.

“A date. When two people who like each other go out and have fun,” Sherlock spouted. Molly smirked at his dictionary-like understanding. She would be willing to bet he was quoting someone, probably John.

“I’m not sure I understand. Emotions are mostly foreign to me,” he continued. “You know what I’m like, and you’re not as stupid as the rest of the world. After one failed attempt, or after seeing what I’m like in person, why would you not just give up? I have no room for sentiment in my life, yet part of you still seeks my affection. Why would you seek something which does not exist?”

“You’re really that thick?” Molly asked, shaking her head. Sherlock frowned at her.

“I’m a proper genius,” he said. Molly shook her head at him again.

“I’m not talking about intelligence,” she told him. “You are still under the impression that you are incapable of sentiment. But if that’s true, why did you have to fake your death? Why did you care what happened to John and the others? If you don’t care about John and your friendship, why are you even here, set up on a fake date and dressed in a ridiculous Halloween costume at his request?” Sherlock stayed silent, so Molly continued.

“You say you don’t understand why I could still like you when I know that you’re emotionless. But if I didn’t think that there was even the slightest chance of you changing, of realizing that sentiment can be a good thing, then you’re right. I would leave. But for some reason I don’t and that’s got to count for something,” she finished by taking another drink, and realizing the bottle was empty. Sherlock was still standing there in silence, motionless as a statue.

“I’m going to get some air,” Molly said finally, going around him and into the crowd. She spotted Mary dancing with John, she was red-faced and laughing, and turned in the other direction to the hallway. Once there, she went down the corridor into an adjacent one, and slid down the wall to sit on the tile floor. She was still staring at the wall, ignoring the chill of the tiles through her patched up dress, when she heard his voice again.

“John’s not an idiot you know,” he said, his deep voice echoing and sending chills through her already cold spine.

“He’s a doctor,” Molly replied. For some reason she wasn’t as embarrassed as the though she should be.

“I’m not talking about intelligence,” she heard him walk towards her and stop nearby, but she still hadn’t looked up. “May I join you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, just sat down against the wall. Molly looked at him, the great Sherlock Holmes sitting in an empty hospital corridor, dressed as someone called Jack from a movie, so close that she could feel his body heat but not touching.

“You’re always talking about intelligence,” Molly said. Sherlock shook his head has he stretched out his legs.

“Maybe a bit,” he said. “But he know me better then I would like to admit. He thinks I like you. And I don’t have any evidence against him except for the absurd childhood fantasy that sentiment can be removed. Which you have disproven.”

“It’s your call Sherlock. Just do whatever feels right,” Molly sighed. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, and most of her mind was screaming at her to leave before she get hurt. Sherlock was silent for several moments before he responded.

“Happy Halloween Sally,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her cheek like he had on Christmas those years ago, before Moriarty had truly infected their lives. But it was different. It wasn’t an apology, it was something new. Molly was still staring, wide eyed, when he got up off the floor and disappeared around the corner.

 

 


End file.
